


No Strenuous Activity Required

by PinkPandorafrog



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkPandorafrog/pseuds/PinkPandorafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mandatory briefing was a real snore-fest, but Darcy finds a way to pass the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Strenuous Activity Required

Darcy was sitting on the rather uncomfortable folding chair, tucked away near the back behind the sea of bodies that filled the large room. One ankle was resting on the opposite knee, and her phone was out on her lap, angled up so that she'd be able to see when she got a new text message.

Agent Hand was doing some sort of briefing on something or another with new procedures that Darcy had already read no less than three memos on, and this was just a giant snore-fest. She _highly_ doubted _anyone_ was actually paying attention.

Lorraine sure as shit wasn't. She was sitting a row back and more than a few seats over, but they were texting each other in between moves on Candy Crush.

Her phone lit up.

_Lorraine: He's looking at you again._

Darcy's eyebrows went up. One of the field agents had apparently been watching her for a good part of the briefing so far. She hadn't wanted to turn around to look and risk eye contact with him, but Lorraine had assured her that he was hot. With a winky-face and everything.

_Lorraine: Ted's sitting next to him. Says his name is Rumlow._

Darcy blinked at the screen for a second. Rumlow- the name wasn't familiar, but she didn't really hang out with a whole lot of field agents.

_Lorraine: Ted wants to know if he can give Rumlow your #??_

Darcy's eyes widened at her phone. Uh... Some guy wanted her number? That was... Well, it would probably help this fucking meeting go a little faster. _Sure_ , she typed, and hit send before she could think too much about it. In addition to SHIELD's fraternization policies, Darcy had a personal policy against getting involved with coworkers. Then again, texting didn't necessarily mean anything. Maybe he just wanted to ask what kind of shampoo she used. Lorraine had mentioned that he had thick hair.

_Rumlow: hi. Darcy, right? seen you around_

Darcy turned in her chair to see if she could spot him. Sure enough, the guy sitting on Ted's left was looking straight at her. And he was hot. And had thick, dark hair. He quirked an eyebrow as she met his gaze, and she turned back around to at least pretend she was facing forward. He didn't look familiar, but there were thousands of people moving around the Hub every day, that didn't necessarily mean anything. _Hi. You're Rumlow?_ she sent back.

_Rumlow: Brock. you intel?_

_Darcy: Yeah. Much to their collective chagrin, I imagine. If you ever hear Sitwell bitching about someone who knows too much for her own good, that's probably me._

There was a momentary flash of uncertainty after she sent that. She didn't know the guy, what if Sitwell was his BFF or something? Another glance behind her showed that he was smirking, though, and she was a little reassured by that.

_Rumlow: stop turning around she'll notice_

Darcy rolled her eyes. _Pfft, whatever. Is your name really Brock Rumlow? That sounds like a character from a bodice ripper or something._ Seriously, though. It was almost as bad as Brock Samson. She smothered an inappropriate giggle at a mental image of herself all done up as Molotov Cocktease. Yeah, this briefing needed to be over soon.

_Rumlow: lol I have ripped a few shirts_

Her mental image took a definite turn, and she swallowed against a suddenly-dry mouth. She hadn't been able to see his hands when she'd glanced at him, but his upper arms were, uh... Okay, _that_ needed to stop. _Next time buy bigger shirts, maybe you won't shred them when you flex at the strange lady from Intel._ In case he thought she'd missed the shift and not-quite-subtle bulge of his upper arm when she'd looked at him.

_Rumlow: didn't rip. you can check after_

She fought the urge to turn around and look at him again. He was right, if she kept turning around, Hand was going to notice and say something about people putting their phones away and paying attention. But it read a lot like he was flirting with her, and she wanted to match words up with body language and facial expression. Context. When in doubt, though, change the subject. _You're a field guy?_

_Rumlow: you could say that_

_Darcy: So what are you doing here?_

_Rumlow: took a bullet. they fixed me up but I'm out of action for a bit_

Darcy made a face. That had to suck. She got tired of being stuck in the office all the time, and it was her actual job. _And everyone had to come to this thing. Ugh. Sorry. You hurt bad?_ Well, everyone Level 7 and above.

_Rumlow: not too bad grazed my ribs. been shot worse. of course no one kissed it all better_

Okay, that definitely seemed like flirting. Right? It... Was? Again, she fought the urge to turn around. _Maybe put that in the suggestion box at the end, that they start doing that in Medical. I'm sure Hand will give that all the consideration it deserves._

_Rumlow: what are you doing later?_

Darcy blinked at her phone for a second. Context. _Because you want me to kiss it all better?_

_Rumlow: could start there_

She waited a second for a follow-up 'just kidding,' but nothing came. She glanced to each side of her- no one was sitting close enough to be able to see the screen, and honestly... Flirting through the rest of this sounded way better than Candy Crush. Hand was still going on and on at the front of the room. _Your bullet wound might have to buy me dinner first, but I'll think about it._

_Rumlow: don't know about dinner I might have some mres in my gear_

Darcy made a face. She was familiar enough with MREs to know better. _Tempting- wait, it's not. Cardboard's not really my thing. I'd settle for dessert, though._

_Rumlow: thought I'd have you for dessert_

Her eyebrows went up again, and she couldn't stop another glance around to make absolutely sure no one could see her. The guy on her right was fucking around with his phone, and the lady on her left appeared to be doodling on a pad of paper. Neither one was close enough to see her screen- she sure couldn't see what they were doing. _Fraternization?_

_Rumlow: you don't really care about the rules do you? I'll only be here a couple more days anyway_

Well. That made them _technically_ not co-workers. Or, you know, close enough that Darcy was considering it. _I don't know about that... I mean, you're all injured and stuff, what if you had to go back to Medical because I broke you again?_

_Rumlow: you're the one who's going to be broken. be lucky if you can walk after_

This was escalating quickly. Not that she really minded. _Big words. You'd better be sure you can back that shit up before you start getting all brag-face, I'd hate to be disappointed. Are you even cleared for strenuous activity? I'm guessing not if you're stuck here._

_Rumlow: don't need strenuous activity._

She gave her phone a skeptical look. Someone sure thought highly of themselves. _Then you're gonna sit on me? Hard to walk with you on my legs._

_Rumlow: spread you out on my bed. eat you out until you scream and my face is dripping_

Darcy could feel her cheeks getting warmer, and she sneaked a glance to either side of her again. Wow. He'd actually just said that. Like, in a room full of people, actually said that.

_Lorraine: Are you blushing? OMG What's he saying?_

_Rumlow: so pretty when you blush. I bet your cunt is getting hot too_

Darcy couldn't even look at her phone after she saw that. Thankfully, Hand appeared to be wrapping up her briefing, and people were already shifting and getting to their feet. Since she was pretty much sitting in the center of her row, she waited until some of the bodies had cleared out before she got to her feet as well.

Turning, she stopped short when she realized Brock was still sitting in his chair. His eyebrow rose and he let his eyes move pointedly down her body and then back up to her face. He looked down at his phone and typed something.

_Rumlow: dessert?_

Darcy swallowed and nodded. Watching him pull himself gingerly to his feet, though, made her question her decision. She moved along the row of chairs to meet him at the end. “I don't know, man, I think a good stiff breeze could knock you over.”

His hand brushed over her back and he stepped close enough into her side that she could hear him when he murmured in her ear. “If you don't think you can handle it, that's fine. But don't back out on my account.”

His voice. Oh god, his voice. She nodded, her eyes fixed on a spot on the floor in front of her. “Yeah, um... Okay. But if I break you, I'm not going to be able to blow you.”

His fingers dug into her back for a second before he stepped away to a more corporately-acceptable distance. “I'll keep that in mind.” He turned and started from the room, walking a little slower than he probably normally did. Certainly slower than Darcy usually did. But she walked along beside him, staring straight ahead.

The halls were teeming with people, both those who'd attended the presentation and the normal daily traffic in the Hub. The elevator was full as they got on, but everyone else got off before they reached the residential floors, leaving them completely alone by the time it stopped.

Brock stepped out first, gesturing down the hall to the left. “I'm pretty close,” he told her as they started walking in that direction, angled towards the wall. “They didn't want me to wear myself out getting down to the cafeteria.”

She sighed, giving him the same sort of skeptical look she'd given her phone. He wasn't terribly tall, but she still had to look up to look at his face. “Okay. This is the kind of thing that makes me think that maybe you'll bust your stitches or whatever, and I'll end up calling Medical in a panic when you pass out from blood loss while I'll buck-ass naked across your bed.”

“The only thing you're going to be calling is my name.” He came to a stop beside a door, and pressed his thumb to the scanner outside. After a second it lit up and beeped, and Darcy heard the click of the door unlocking before it swung inward.

Anticipation mixed with a touch of nervousness surged through her as she preceded him inside. The room looked pretty much just like hers. A bed, a table with two chairs, and a closed door that probably led into a tiny bathroom. She went to the bed and turned to sit on it, seeing that he'd stopped by the table.

Brock's eyes, dark with want, moved over her. “Can you help me get this shirt off?”

She stood again and crossed to him. Her hands slid up under the hem of the tight-fitting black shirt with the silver SHIELD logo on the sleeve, and traced gently up over his abdomen. He was cut. Yup. This was a guy who worked out on the regular. She stopped when her fingers encountered the stiff medical tape, instead taking the edge of the shirt and helping him lift it off, first one arm and over his head, and then down the arm on his injured side.

He was definitely cut. A square of thick, white gauze was taped to his left side, and her eyes lingered there. “Hard to eat you out when you're standing there with all your clothes on.” When she turned her focus up to his face, the look there said that he was absolutely committed. “I'd help, but you're so concerned that I not pull my stitches...”

Shrugging, Darcy pulled off her own clothes. Not the SHIELD-issue stuff he was wearing, or the neat suits that were entirely too common. Bright purple shirt, dark skinny jeans, ankle boots. She watched his eyes gleam with appreciation when her matching navy blue bra and panties were revealed, and then quickly stripped off.

She stepped back over to the bed and sat back on it before shifting to lie down with her head on the pillow, legs stretched out. Her hands were folded on her bare stomach, and she turned her head to watch him walk to the end of the bed.

Brock eased himself onto the bed, nudging her legs apart as he moved up to settle between them. His hands settled on her inner thighs, opening her to his gaze. He did nothing more than look at her for a few seconds, his hot breath tantalizing over the sensitive flesh until she was squirming under him.

Finally, he bent down and flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit, making her gasp. He pulled back for a second before leaning down for a longer stroke, and then bent to dance his tongue over the bead of flesh until she was letting out breathy moans, unable to keep still.

The slight prickle of his stubble felt incredible as he licked and nipped at her. His hands on her thighs held her firmly against the bed as she tried to move up against him. His teeth caught over the inside of one thigh. “Stay still,” he instructed before moving back to more tender flesh.

Her hands came down and pushed through his thick hair until they were resting on his head. Darcy fought to keep herself still as he moved his mouth against her.

When his lips closed around her clit, sucking it into his mouth, she let out a long moan. He seemed to take this as encouragement, drawing harder on it until she was keening, eyes shut, her head rolling back and forth against the pillow. He made a growling sort of noise that _vibrated_ against her clit and through her pussy, and she came with a loud cry.

He slowed, pulling back as she came back to herself. “That wasn't a scream,” he said, sounding entirely too smug. His chin was covered in a sheen of her pleasure. “Guess I'll have to try again.” His head lowered again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kiwi, by Maroon 5.


End file.
